Meanwhile, in orbit above Korhal
by Sheason
Summary: Just something silly I thought I'd do after my most recent playthrough of Heart of the Swarm. Kerrigan and Stukov decide to celebrate the death of Mengsk with a bottle of vodka. This can only end well. Special thanks to thekellin for helping me with The Russian.


"So," Stukov greeted Kerrigan upon her return to the Leviathan. "Mengsk is dead, his seat of power devastated, and the whole of the Swarm is firmly under your control again, my Queen." The former UED Admiral pounded his mostly-human fist against his chest and bowed his head in salute... and then let out a raucous belly laugh. "All in all... not a bad day's work, wouldn't you agree?"

"Indeed, Stukov," Kerrigan said as she passed, allowing herself a brief, momentary smile. "It hasn't been a bad day at all..." What she didn't say was that it hadn't really been a _good_ day for her, either, despite her many victories. Yes, her swarm had done the impossible, but there was still much work to do... and she would have to do it all without Jim. She kept walking in silence, and Stukov followed.

"Yes..." he regarded the Queen of Blades carefully, rubbing his chin. "You know... from one infested Terran to another, I'd say this calls for a celebration. Only if you will permit it, of course, my Queen." Kerrigan halted in her tracks and turned to look at Stukov, utterly bewildered.

"Cele- Stukov, I hardly think - " Kerrigan began.

"Oh, I know, I know," Stukov said with a toothy grin. "Your victory here was only the start. Amon still waits for us in the void, and we have absolutely **NO** chance of defeating the fallen Xel'Naga. And yet... personally? I think that seeing the end of that rat-bastard Mengsk is cause enough to celebrate. Seeing him burn felt good, did it not?"

"Yes," Kerrigan nodded. "Yes, it was -" Liberating. "It felt good. Alright, Stukov, so we celebrate. What do you propose?" Stukov grinned wider, his teeth starting to show through the holes in his cheek.

"I have been saving a bottle of vodka for a very special occasion. Some Столи́чная, one of the last bottles I could find before I left Earth with the UED fleet." Kerrigan stared at Stukov in stunned silence, trying to process what she was hearing.

"Wait, Earth?!" She finally managed to say. "Are you seriously trying to tell me that you still have a bottle stashed away somewhere that you got on _Earth_? How the hell did you keep it safe all these years?" Stukov shrugged and tipped his peaked cap back slightly.

"That, my Queen, is a very, very long story in and of itself. My original plan for that bottle was to share it with Gerard, after the UED triumphed over the Koprulu sector, but... eh... that didn't happen." Stukov let a single, grim chuckle. "Either way, I may not get another chance to crack it open, once we start the fight against Amon. So, I would be honored if I could share it with you, my Queen."

"I... I don't really know what to say..." Kerrigan stammered out. Stukov smiled, reaching into what remained of his coat and pulled out a cigar tube from an unseen pocket.

"Yes is probably a good start." He unscrewed the metal top, and bit the end of the cigar, sliding off the metal tube. "The bottle is on my ship, safe, sound, and very chilled."

"And what about the cigars?" Kerrigan asked as the two of them resumed walking down the cartilage, bone, and meat corridors of the Leviathan. "Are you going to share those?"

"Sorry, Kerrigan." He pulled the cigar out of his mouth and smirked. "I'm willing to share the vodka, but this one is just for me."

Somewhere, deep in the Leviathan's spawning pit, Abathur wondered aloud what was causing the echoing laughter he was hearing.

* * *

_2 hours later, on the bridge of the Hyperion..._

"Incoming transmission." The adjutant blurted out suddenly, attracting the attention of everyone on the bridge.

"A transmission?" Jim Raynor looked at the holographic panel that materialized in midair questioningly. "Who'd be callin' us now? Matt, I thought all our forces on the ground were accounted for. Aren't they?" Matt Horner nodded.

"Do you think it's Valerian?" Horner rubbed his chin. Raynor shook his head and walked up to the console.

"Nah, can't be. He's still on th' ship, last I saw."

"Warning," the adjutant began again. "Psionic waveform detected. Scale: unclassifiable." Matt and Jim looked at each other and sighed.

"Kerrigan," the two of them said in unison. The holographic screen flickered into view, and they were presented with the image of Kerrigan's face. Her head was tilted at an odd angle, propped up against one of her hands, and her eyes were only half open. Completing the ludicrous image was the enormously silly, stupid grin plastered on the face of the Queen of Blades.

"Hiiiiiii, Jimmyyyyyy!" Kerrigan slurred. She seemed to slip down slightly out of frame, but quickly scrambled back up. Jim and Matt were rooted in place staring at the absurd spectacle.

"_Kerrigan_?" Matt was the first to speak, turning to Jim with a look of confused horror. Jim, on the other hand, looked like he was about to start laughing.

"Darlin' tell me honest - are you drunk?" Of course he could tell Kerrigan was drunk. Raynor himself had been sloshed many a time. But even seeing it with his own eyes, it was a bit hard to swallow - the Queen of Blades? Getting _drunk_? Madness! Raynor looked over to Matt questioningly. "Wait, can zerg even _get_ drunk?"

"Well, clearly!" Kerrigan slurred, leaning in close to the camera; it was obvious now that she wasn't sending a psionic message, and was sending this message from a console on a Terran ship. "Stukov he -" Kerrigan hiccupped. "He got's a bottle'v vodka! We're celebratin' th' death'a Mengsk!"

"Сгори в аду, мудак гребаный!" came a voice from off-screen. Kerrigan turned to look, reached off to the side, and pulled Stukov into frame; he was halfway through a vodka shot, and his peaked cap was missing. A few of the crew recoiled at the unexpected image of the infested Terran, whose face was half rotten away. Stukov rubbed a hand against his chin, to try and wipe away the alcohol that had spilled out of the holes in his cheek.

"He an' I thought y'might wanna celebrate with's!" Kerrigan said happily, shaking Stukov. "Requestin' p'rmission t'board, so we can drink s'more?"

"Uh..." Horner seemed about ready to register a complaint, but Jim just laughed, setting a hand on Matt's shoulder to silence him before he even started.

"Sure thing, darlin'. The party wasn't gonna start till we left orbit, but I think we can get goin' a little early. What'd ya say, Matt? Think we should break out the Blue Label?"

"The way I hear it, sir," Matt said to his best friend with a smirk "you drank the last of our supply a year ago." Raynor coughed nervously.

"You'n yer friend are welcome to come aboard, darlin'. Th' cantina's well stocked, we'll figure somethin' out." Kerrigan beamed, finally letting go of Stukov.

"Thanks, Jimmy! Yer th' best..." From offscreen, Horner and Raynor could hear Stukov sigh.

"Ну, поехали!"

* * *

And that's the story of how Kerrigan discovered that zerg can, in fact, get drunk. Abathur once suggested spinning a new sequence to "fix" the "problem," but Kerrigan threatened to tear him in half if he tried.


End file.
